Faye Lannister
by Mira Black-Snape
Summary: Bastard daughter of Tyrion Lannister is not one for games, especially not a game of thrones. With the Hound by her side, she experiences something she never thought she could achieve, her own fate.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I owe nothing but Faye and my mixed up plot bunnies.

Faye picked at a part of her dress that interested her, vines that were embroidered with brown and green silken thread that adorned her blue dress. With a sigh, she stopped picking at the soft threads before anyone noticed. Especially, her Queen Aunt Cersei. By the Seven, Faye couldn't deal with her aunt constantly shooting nasty looks. After a month on the Kingsroad, being stuck in the same wheelhouse as her and her children, she could feel herself going stir crazy. Not that she didn't love her cousins, just not Joffrey.

If she had to hear one more remark from Joffrey-

"Faye, sit straight." The cold voice of Cersei broke through Faye's semi-murderous thoughts. The beautiful blond queen sat regally at the other corner of the wheelhouse, her emerald eyes flashing with annoyance. Nodding her head, the younger girl straightened her spine to sit up straight, all the while thinking what her father, the infamous Imp Lannister, would have said.

' _Probably tell me to slouch further to annoy Cersei,'_ Faye thought.

Tommen and Myrcella, peered out the window as they came upon the large fortress of Winterfell. Their green eyes, the Lannister eyes, wide with childlike wonder as they took in the green and grey setting. Both were so used to the Red Keep in King's Landing, where almost everything is red and tan.

A soldier trotted up on his horse and announced that they would be at the northern kingdom in a few short moments.

"Cousin, have you ever seen something so… green?" little Myrcella asked, eyes still wide and glued to the passing scenery.

With a chuckle, Faye shifted over to sit closer to Tommen, who sat on her side, and looked out at the passing North. "Can't say I have little Princess. But do you know why it is so green?"

Myrcella shook her head.

"Because everything is less crowded than King's Landing. People are more spread out and the rain allows things to grow." She explained with a smile and lightly tapped the younger girl on the chin with a crooked finger. Tommen looked back at Faye and gave a huge smile then looked back to the window clearly more interested in what was going on outside.

Cersei cleared her throat and fluffed up the furs that were wound upon her long graceful neck, this was her subtle reminder for Faye to mind her own station. As a, former, bastard child in many people's eyes, talking to the prince and princess so formally is considered unethical. To Tommen and Myrcella, they view her as their adoring cousin; for Joffrey, he views her still as a bastard, just as his mother does. And, of course, many people of the court hold, not-so secretly, the same views.

"We're here!" Tommen said excitedly.

The whole procession of the royal guard and most of the royal court rode through the opening of the gates that protected Winterfell. The Baratheon children and the Lannister child looked out at all of the town's folk who watched the procession with awe. The procession, for many of these people, was more grand than any they seen in their entire lifetime.

The wheelhouse pulled to an abrupt halt, making the occupants pull from one direction to the other in order to regain their balance. This seemed to serve only to anger Cersei. Faye could have sworn to the Seven that she heard her aunt mutter something about having the driver impaled, or something or another. As the door was pulled open, Cersei and her children exited the wooden confines into the the courtyard, where a horde of high borns were waiting for them.

Allowing another minute for her family, if one can really call half of them that, to disembark, Faye carefully got out of the wheelhouse. She was met with a metal glove, held out gentlemen-like, for her to grab onto. A glance out the corner of her eye confirmed that it was the Hound who did this, his snarling dog helm held underneath his other arm. He stood near a seven feet tall and looked massive in his dark metal suit of armour. She looked to his face. Most people could not see past the scar, forever marked by the fire his dear brother, the Mountain Who Rides, had thought to cook him on. It covered almost an entire half of his head, almost drawing forth the image of melted wax. If a person were to look past the scar he could almost be considered handsome. That is to say, if not for the gruff expression it held.

Taking his offered hand, she twined her arm around his and held fast. She then dainty led him to where her Uncle Jaime, the Kingslayer, stood. He went to pull away but Faye was quick to tighten her hold on his arm. His arm, by the way, was larger then her whole body. He looked down at her with his one eyebrow furrowed in annoyance at being held near the spotlight but she gave him a small smirk and looked forward to where the King had his attention on the Starks.

The Kingslayer looked down to his oldest niece and lean to whisper into her ear. "Did you enjoy the final leg of the journey?"

Giving an unlady like snort, Faye replied out of the corner of her mouth. "The thing I enjoyed the most was spending the whole ride with my doting aunt." This time it was Jamie's turn to snort.

They both watched as King Robert greeted the Stark Family, paying compliments here and there. When he returned to Lord Ned Stark, he started to talk about paying his respects to the dead, completely ignoring Cersei and her comments. As both men were about to leave a little voice broke the fragile silence.

"But where's the Imp?!" a young voice whinned. Another voice told her to shut up, probably in fear of being outspoken in front of the royal family. This caused Robert to stop in his tracks and turn around, his eyes moving across the crowd until they landed on Faye.

"Ah Ned! You must meet the only Lannister I can fucking tolerate!" he boomed happily and nearly dragged his old friend over to the young girl. It was a very amusing site, the fat king dragging over the stocky northerner with the energy of a young child wanting to show their parents their new find.

Ned Stark looked at the girl before him, a true Lannister in looks through and through. Pure golden hair that fell as if it were a curtain to her waist, tall and willowy, and a fair complexion, but she had her father's rumored mismatched eyes. One emerald green and the other as dark as the night sky.

"My lord," Faye gave the Warden of the North a polite greeting and a curtsy. Her arm was still hooked to the Hounds, her curtsey making him stoop further. She held back another snort, he looked utterly ridiculous.

"Ned, this is Faye Lannister, daughter of the bloody Imp." Robert bellowed happily. Faye stood up from her curtsy and gave a sweet smile, playing the part of a lady perfectly.

"My Lord Stark, it is an honor to meet you. I have heard many heroic tales about you from the King."

Ned looked at her for a moment then replied, "Thank you Lady Faye. King Robert likes to exaggerate with old war stories, I hope he did not build me up as some knight of legend."

"Ned! Of course you are as grand as I fucking say!" The King laughed merrily. "Now, I still wish to pay my respects, so if you would..."

Everyone dispersed as the King left with the Northerner, leaving the Stark kids, Faye, the Hound, and Jaime.

"Well, I suppose I should go find your father," Jaime stated to his niece. Faye gave a nod in confirmation and gave his armoured arm a squeeze as he left to find Tyrion, most likely in a brothel.

The Hound tried to take his leave, again, but felt a tug from his arm, tiny Faye was still hanging on. "Let go Mouse, I am still on duty if you didn't realize it."

"Well I am your lady fair, so I think you should escort me to my rooms." she sassed.

"Why the fuck would I do that?!" he exclaimed.

Faye looked to the Stark children, or those that were left that is, she didn't want to embarrass herself in front of these highborn children. At least not in a situation that she couldn't be proud of.

"Come, walk me to my rooms." she repeated tightly and pulled him towards the door to the main building, or at least tried to. The Hound growled but followed the tiny woman, as if she could drag him anywhere. "You could at least learn to play nice in the company of others, Sandor," Faye hissed at the man as they walked through the stone corridors.

Sandor scoffed at her, "I don't play nice with anyone. Why would I play nice with you? Just because the mighty Tywin Lannister decided to stick you with the ugly dog doesn't mean-"

"It is not about that!" Faye yelled, heated anger rushing through her body. She yanked her arm free of his and stood right in front of his to glare fully up at his face. "I am soon to be your wife, something neither of us are really happy about. But we have to work together to at least seem civil in each others presence. You can be your _charming_ self all you want, but act like you tolerate me more than a job. We are both stuck in this deal in-the-making."

Sandor stood silent at the younger girl's tirade, a look of impress and surprise on his heavily scarred face. Usually women of the court would never show such an outward display of unruly emotion. Here stood one of the exceptions to the rule, this lowly bastard girl who dare rise above what birth had set upon her to become legitimate and find a place within the court.

She stood there breathing heavily as she tried to calm herself down. "Now if you excuse me, I would like to go and refresh myself. And as you said earlier, you _are_ still on duty." With that she turned and continue down the corridor, leaving the Hound standing there with a glare of his own forming slowly on his face.

Hello lovely readers, I would like to introduce my first GoT story I had cooking in the back of my head since I binged watched it this summer. I would love to say thank you to my lovely Princess and her roommate for helping me get through this first chapter. And that the roommate suggested that Sandor looks like a burnt potato.


	2. Chapter 2

A feast was held that night in the main hall of Winterfell for the arrival of the king and his family. There was music, laughter and the wine was flowing continuously thanks to the northern serving girls. Faye sat in the corner of the raised platform where the royal family was seated. Her father, Tyrion, sat next to her drinking deeply from his cup while flirting with a serving girl.

"I think he's had enough," Faye interrupted the pair and quickly took the cup out of her father's small hand. The serving wench gave a quick nod of the head and scurried off into the crowd while Tyrion gave a mocking glare to his daughter.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy myself daughter?"

"We only just got here and you have already had such a full day. Drinking and whoring yourself at the brothel takes a lot out of a person, why don't you enjoy the evening tipsy, and not drunk?" Faye explained, to rub it in a little she took a healthy mouthful of the bitter wine for herself. The dwarf's eyes were wide at this action.

"Well that is just not fair daughter!" Tyrion mock pouted, Faye gave a hearty laugh at his mockery. "I helped give you life, in return you should give me wine."

"... I do not believe that is how it works." Faye said thoughtfully, a delicate hand cupping her chin.

"Yes it does, now, hand me my wine back!" Tyrion tried to reach his small arms for the cup but Faye kept it out of reach, only for a moment, she gave it back to him with a roll of her eyes. A scoff from down the table had the father/daughter duo looking at the person who rudely interrupted them. It was Cersei.

"Can you two have some decorum? Both of you are already a disappointment to the family, don't embarrass us even more." The blond queen hissed at the two of them, a severe frown marring her beautiful face. As soon as Lady Catelyn Stark came to sit next the queen Cersei plastered on her fake smile and turned to talk to their host.

Tyrion scoffed and went back to his wine, all too used to his sister and her attitude.

Faye looked out over the feast, it was so different compared to the ones that were thrown in the Red Keep. People actually enjoyed the company around them, able to be free to a point instead of combing their honeyed words for anything that could affect their own reputation. Although this was smaller, it was more intimate, warmer.

"You're thinking Little Mouse." a hot breath caressed her ear. Shifting in her seat she saw the Hounds face close to her, close enough to smell the wine on his breath.

"What makes you say that?"

"You have this stare, like you're trying to figure out what Septa's have underneath their head coverings. You block out everything around you."

Faye gave a chuckle at his statement. "Well we all know what the Septa's have under their coverings, tattoo's like slaves do in Slaver's Bay in Essos. Great big ones that travel the whole body, more so than Pirates!" This made a deep rumbling laugh come from the normally dower man. A smile came across her face, never had she seen this great man relaxed enough to give a true laugh. And she had grown up around him as well.

A thought crossed her mind, making her smile something wicked. The Hound looked at the girl with a raised eyebrow as he took a deep drink from his wine skane and soon wished he had quickly walked away.

"Dance with me."

Coughing hard from the wine going down the wrong pipe, the Hounds glared lightly at the girl. "Fuck that. I don't fucking dance." Pouting her lips, Faye glanced up at him through her eyelashes. "Girl, if that had worked I would of been fucked over years ago."

"Just one dance!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"No one else is going to ask me."

"I bet if you batted your pretty lashes at that Stark boy he would."

"Why would I want to dance with Robb Stark? He looks boring."

"Boring?! You daft girl!"

"Oh, just dance with her!" Tyrion shouted, fed up with the two bickering. Both looked at him wide eyed for a moment as he continued to sit in his seat and drink his wine.

Sandor begrudgingly held out his hand for the younger girl to take, he even had to stop himself from smiling when her face lit up. She grabbed his hand happily and proceeded to try and pull him to the dance floor faster than he wanted to.

Everyone seemed to stare as the two came onto the dance floor, even the musicians dropped a note or two as they saw the two misfits join the crowd.

Faye proceeded to dance around the giant of a man, skirts swirling about as the crowd seemed to shrink back away from the duo. She paid no mind to those who did this though, she was wrapped up with dancing. Sandor, however, stood there and glared at everyone who starred and paid no mind to the small dancing girl. The Queen locked eyes on him and raised a delicate blonde eyebrow at him, judging him. Blond Cunt.

A slower song started to play, thus signaling the Hound to get the hell off the dance floor. Just as he was about to do that Faye grabbed his hand. Her eyes pleading for him to stay just a few moments longer. Shaking his head, he removed his hand from hers and walked out into the snowed courtyard leaving her in the middle of the parted crowd.

"The Stark boy fell, no one knows if he'll live." Sandor told her as they walked through the Godswood a few weeks after the feast. Faye had forgiven him a few days after the feast for leaving her alone in the middle of the dance floor. He couldn't not feel a little guilty for leaving her, but it wasn't who he was to apologize for something.

Soon the King's party would be leaving for the warm South along with Lord Stark and his girls as he was to be the new Hand of the King. Ser Meryn Trant walked behind them as chaperon although both Clegane and Lannister walked way ahead of him.

"I hope he does. I had talked to him a few times, he is such a sweet little boy, told me how he wanted to become a knight when he was older." Faye spoke softly. She had watched the little Lord play with her younger cousins. She had even watched him look at the King's Guards with pure wondering in his sweet brown eyes.

The tall man snorted in disgust, his disgust of knights came from him brother who was one. The Mountain revoked his Knightly vow as soon as he took them but still held the title as Ser Gregor. He continuously vowed to never don the white cloak

"Well not everyone has the same distaste of those who are to guard the realm. I'm sure the little Lord would've kept to his vows, he comes from an honorable family where honor is held high in regard. Unlike other places." Out of the corner of her eye she saw the burned man roll his eyes at her statement.

"Fucking knights." was all that he said.

"Not all knights go back on their vows. So far Loras Tyrell is doing a pretty good job. Although he will soon be released to carry on his family's name and legacy."

Sandor stayed quiet for another moment before muttering out, "Fucking pillow biter."

Faye laughed loudly at his remark. Hearing her laughter caused Sandor to relax slightly, never would he thought that a pretty girl would be hanging on his arm, laughing at a something he said in an honest manner, and not a whore he was paying for. He gave a small smirk at this triumph.

"Let the boy love and fuck who he wants, Sandor, it's none of our business."

"Only the whole kingdoms."

Another laugh spilled from from her rose colored lips, oh how gossip goes round the land.

Faye sat in her room and stared blankly at the stone wall that laid in front of her. The wedding had been moved up. The King felt that everyone should leave on a high note and a large wedding was just the thing. She didn't know how Sandor felt, but Faye felt like she didn't have stable ground to stand on. Her whole life felt like a piece of cloth, ready to be embroidered for the first person to pick it up. And so far Cersei seemed to be creating a pattern with Tywin's instructions.

A series of knocks brought her out of her disparaging thoughts.

"Enter." she called out softly.

The heavy wooden door opened and her father waddled in, brow furrowed on his large head. Closing the door behind him, he looked at his only daughter, he thanked the Gods everyday that she didn't inherit his dwarfishness. Although, being born a bastard was right there with being born a dwarf in most of society's eyes.

"Is there any reason as to why your in your room on such a beautiful day such as this?" the dwarf joked with a small smirk on his face. Although the smirk left his face at the defeated expression Faye gave him. "So, I guess you heard then."

She then scowled at him, fury lighting up her mismatched eyes. "Yes, I did." she growled out. "I was promised that the Hound and I would be married in a year's time, you went back on that. The King went back on that. Grandfather went back on that!" Faye stalked up to her small father, like the lioness she was.

Tyrion took in his daughter's rage, her betrothal was struck up only a few months ago with the second son of House Clegane. Tywin had wanted her to become the newest bride of Gregor Clegane, and everyone knew what the Mountain that Rides does to the women he marries. It took the King to convince Tywin to change his choice, so it was Sandor that got picked. It was not that unheard of (for there a very rare instances that something like this happens) for a legitimized bastard to be wed to high house's but to all of the Lannisters no one expected Faye to be properly wedded to a highborn family.

"Now dear," he said calmly and took her hand in his. Soft hands that have never seen much hard work. "Trust me when I say I'll do whatever I can to make sure that nothing will happen to you."

Scoffing, his daughter clutched his hand further, nails digging into his skin painfully. "And how would you do that? As soon as his cloak is wrapped around my shoulders I'm under his protection, not yours."

"You seemed to forget, us Lannisters do not let go of what is ours that easily. No matter where you go, I will make sure you are protected."

Her lip trembled a moment before she started to cry. For so long she had been strong, nothing could touch her. But this, the marriage, seemed to be her downfall. She wanted to be a carefree child again, the bastard that no one gave a second look to. Free to run around and play, not worrying about anything. But the moments she cherished were long gone, now she had strings attached.

Tyrion gathered his daughter into his small embrace as best he could. He may have been drawn the short stick in life (quite literally) and his daughter had to deal with that as well. He was a fucking Lannister, he would do whatever he could to make her life easier. He promises that.

And a Lannister always repays his debts.

 _Hello my loves! Sorry for taking so long for getting this chapter up, I_ _literally had this written up for weeks and only needed a ending and college got in the way. So here's the new chapter and the third one is on the way._


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I only own Faye and the weird plot I have going here.

* * *

By the fucking Seven, he hated weddings.

Weddings were for those who enjoyed showing off their wealth or happiness to others. Sandor had neither. He may be marrying a golden Lannister, but it was her grandfather's money and they weren't very happy with each other. They were more like friends who argued regularly than anything else, not a happy couple coming before the Septon for marriage.

His wedding attire was his dark armour, polished to a shine. His wedding cloak, a deep yellow, the sigil of three snarling hounds embroidered upon it. Soon Faye would wear his cloak, symbolizing that she was under his protection and a part of his family.

And what a family to be wedded into.

His mother and sister had both died in uncertain ways. His father, killed in a hunting accident - Sandor had a suspicion that Gregor had something to do with that. And Gregor, in general, made him want to murder something.

"Ser, the wedding, it's about to start," a voice broke his train of thought. The tall man turned and saw a Stark servant hovering in the barracks doorway, looking very uncertain. Should he stay and make sure the Hound went to the Sept ( _As if he actually knew where the bloody thing was!"_ ) or leave immediately?

"I'm no Ser." He growled, stalking towards the boy with a frown marring his already ruined face. "Show me where it is." Servant nodding, he quickly walked the Hound down the path to the Sept.

* * *

Faye sat still as her Aunt's handmaiden pulled her hair this way and that. She wished she had one of her own; one that she trusted. To prepare for her wedding, she had been dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn and into her aunt and uncle's, the King and Queen's, bedroom to be washed and groomed for her upcoming nuptials.

"And there's the bride." Her aunt's words dripped with false enthusiasm. Turning around she saw Cersei a few feet behind her, smirking the pure Lannister smirk and gently holding a goblet of rich wine. "Leave us for a moment." Her aunt dismissed the maid who turned, bowed, and quickly scurried out of the room.

Cersei stalked towards her niece like the lion she was. "I'm going to give you the advice every woman has heard on her wedding day from their mother. It will hurt, and will always hurt. The man takes the pleasure as one would believe, and us wives are left to deal with that."

Faye looked at her aunt and gave her an understanding nod. But she was prepared for what was to happen tonight, due to the copious amounts of brothels she had been to with her father and the number of whores she had talked to. They had told her that there is pleasure for women in sex; both participants just had to know what to do. Her aunt, it seemed, wanted her to psych her niece out and/or just make her totally miserable. Probably both.

"And I thank you, your majesty, for bestowing upon me this helpful advice where my lack of mother is noticed. But have you not observed the fact that my father has made sure I was well aware of what can go on between a man and a woman in private, a man and several women in fact," she explained. Standing, Faye walked to where her aunt stood. "I thank you for trying to be 'helpful' but all you seem to want to do is try and make a supposedly happy day for me into one full of dread."

Cersei's eyes narrowed in annoyance at her niece's backtalk but before she could say anything more the door burst open and a streak of red and grey raced through and stopped in front of the younger Lannister girl. Sansa Stark's eyes were wide with wonder as she took in Faye's appearance.

"Lady Faye! Your dress is just gorgeous!" the little girl of 12 chirped. She continued to talk about how Faye looked just like a princess from the stories and songs she'd heard, and how she wanted to be just as beautiful on her wedding day as well.

"Thank you, Lady Sansa." Faye gave a little dip of her head in acknowledgment. "And you will be even more beautiful as I on your own wedding day. Because on that day, you'll be marrying my cousin and become queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And you will be the most beautiful queen in history. Isn't that right Aunt Cersei?" The bride spoke to both the young girl and her aunt.

Cersei glared at her niece; the little wretch thought she was funny! Thinking some Northerner would be a better fit then herself as Queen. The little bird was too far into fantasy and stories to even know how what the real world would be like. And the most beautiful queen to go down in history, that was just a blow for fun.

Sansa's eyes widened at the compliments from the bride-to-be. To be kept being told she was to marry the prince of the Seven Kingdoms thrilled her to her core and made her so excited. But more beautiful than the Lannister Queen?

"Your Grace! I could never be more beautiful than you! And I am so honored to be engaged to your son Joffrey!" she cried.

' _Poor child, she hasn't seen what kind of monster he is.'_ Faye thought as she looked between the Stark girl and Cersei.

Cersei's face changed to a kinder tone. "Of course my little dove." And proceeded to wrap her talons, figuratively, around the little direwolf pup that is Sansa.

* * *

The Sept was filled. Everyone wanted to see the infamous Hound and the Imp's daughter married. Such a mismatched paired, tied to each other by the Seven.

Sandor stood before the Septon who was to perform the ceremony, shifting his weight he looked around at those who came to witness the ceremony. The Lannisters, the Baratheons, the Starks (minus Jon Snow), and various lords and ladies. A path was created from the entrance of the Sept to where he stood.

The Septon came from the River Lands when Lady Catelyn moved to Winterfell and continued to stay in the North. as most northerns followed the religion of the Old Gods.

After a few minutes passed, the atmosphere shifted in tone, as Faye entered the Sept with her father.

"Are you ready?" Tyrion whispered to his daughter.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

They walked down the path that the wedding guests had created, passing by many Northern and some Southern Lords and Ladies that decided to come. The father and daughter passed the Stark family, who stood on Sandor's side of the room, and the Lannister/Baratheon family. The closer they got to Faye's soon to be husband, Tyrion squeezed their joint hands briefly. Smiling at her father she gave a quick squeeze back before taking her place before Sandor, staring up at him in all his wedding finery as he did the same to her.

The Hound studied his young bride encased in bright red silk with golden embroidery, her house colors. Long hair filled with small braids criss-crossing over each other creating a lattice-like pattern looking like it was made of spun gold.

Little Sansa and Myrcella stood on opposite sides of the path, both with a star-struck look on their face as if their daydreams had come true. A valiant knight and a princess were getting married, in their own head of course. In reality, it was a bodyguard and a legalized bastard child, definitely one for the history books.

"By the fucking Seven," he muttered quietly. Faye, hearing this despite the height difference, raised a delicate eyebrow in amusement. Apparently, her aunt was good for one thing, leaving Faye's future husband almost speechless.

"I'm not really into fucking deities," she whispered back with her lips curling into an impish grin and a wink accompanied it.

The Septon's eyes widened at her words, as he had heard their small exchange, and gave an indignant huff. "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." It truly sounded as if the holy man wanted to say more but held it back.

Sandor turned the edge of the cloak a bit before swinging it around Faye's slight shoulders, leaving her to fix it properly. This promoted a small, whispered, argument between the two. Meaning that almost everyone in the Sept could hear.

"You couldn't even put it on me properly."

"Am I supposed to fucking dress you like a small child?

"It is not even on one shoulder fully! It nearly fell off!"

"Shut up ya bitch."

"If I may continue!" The Septon spoke loudly, interrupting the quarreling two.

From the masses that gathered Cersei rolled her eyes at the two that were about to be wed. Leaning down a bit she whispered to her younger brother. "Looks like she truly takes after you, _brother_." she sneered to Tyrion. He rolled his eyes at his sister's snark and looked on at the couple who continued to irk the poor Septon.

"Your Grace, Your Grace," The Sept continued on greeting the whole royal family. "My Lord and Lady Stark. We stand here in the sights of Gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul. For now and forever. In sight of the Seven, I seal these two souls binding these two for eternity. Now look at each other and say the words." The elder man continued to drone on, still annoyed at the two before him. Wrapping a long piece of silk cloth around their joint hands.

" _Father. Smith, Warrior. Maiden. -_ " they both spoke together, only for Sandor to mess up halfway through.

"Its Mother you dumb cunt!"

"Fuck it."

The crowd whispered amongst themselves at the vulgar language they both spewed in such a holy place in the middle of their wedding vows. King Robert gave a bellowing laugh at the spectacle before him. Faye looked to the Septon and gave an innocent smile. "May we start again?"

Breathing heavily with anger, the Septon gave an angry glare at the two and repeated. "Now look at each other and say the words. And refrain from using vile language in this holy place!"

Together the Lannister Lioness and the Clegane Hound recited the words that would bind them together.

" _Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his/hers, and s/he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."_

* * *

"Thank the Seven that there was no bedding ceremony!" Faye exclaimed as they ran from the wedding feast. Sandor had been staying in the barracks with the other knights, so he led the way to Faye's room instead.

Opening the door, the large man walked through first, not even holding it for his new bride. She quickly glided in, making sure her wedding cloak and blood red wedding gown did not get caught between the wall and the closing door.

The newly claimed Lady Clegane took in her temporary room at Winterfell, where a maid had started a fire and lit dozens of candles for them. Her new husband quickly got to work on blowing out as many of the candles as he could, no doubt his fear of fire rearing its ugly head.

"Could you imagine the women trying to unclothe you and bring you to this room?" she jested only for a few beats of silence to pass. She started to fear that he would keep silent the whole night.

"All of them are too afraid to go near this dog," he rumbled. Now, half of the room's candles were out, smoke gently curling from the blackened wicks. Some of the tension bled out of Faye, but his jest was in poor taste of himself.

Finally, the Hound turned to her, a sinister shadow on his face as the firelight flickered. Sandor stalked over to his young bride and slowly took her jaw into the palm of his hand. He waited for her to flinch at his ghastly features or avert her eyes from the closeness of his face. She didn't.

With the massive ugly burn on his face, he never believed he would have any chance of claiming a wife. Hell, every time he had ever sex was with some poor whore after his gold. Sometimes, he even paid extra so they would look at him. Now here he was with a little wife, a bloody Lannister at that, who was actually looking him full in the face, without disgust at his scars.

"Don't expect me to be flowery with my words or actions, Little Mouse. Just because now we're married, it doesn't change who I am," he spoke harshly to the little creature standing in front of him.

"As if I could change you. You are an angry cunt who doesn't give two shits about anyone. Not even yourself, most of the time," the blond threw back.

The Hound inched his hand to the back of her neck and wove his fingers through her beautiful hair. He watched as Faye closed her eyes in what seemed like contentment, but they flew open when he roughly gripped her hair and pulled.

Her small hand held his forearm, digging into the armour that clad it, as he growled, "And just remember, this dog doesn't like sharing what's his. Don't think you'll get away with taking others to bed, I'll beat them bloody if you do. And you, I don't give a _fuck_ if your daddy is a fucking Lannister." Quick, jerking nods were her reply. "You'll do as I say and you'll listen." More quick nods. Satisfied he released her long silky hair and took a step back. "Now take that ridiculous dress off."

Faye swallowed shakingly and gave a nod while her cheeks started to heat up. It was not because she was about to lose her maidenhead, or just generally having sex. Her father and his past exploits prepared her enough for that, there was no shame. But in the morning their sheet would be inspected for her blood to prove she was a maiden. That was what humiliated her, especially that it would be her aunt who looked at it, perhaps Joffrey as well. The jeers were already echoing in her ears.

She heard the sounds of boots hitting hard wooden floors, she turned to see that he had been slipping them off standing next to their marriage bed. Sandor started on his amour, releasing the dark metal with little noise. Soon he was down to his tunic and breeches. His top was open, showing a mass of dark chest hair. It was too dark to see but Faye already knew there were dozens and dozens of scars crisscrossing his torso. With the amount of battles he was in, it would have been a complete miracle for him to come out unscathed. Sandor looked at her from the corner of the ruined side of his face and told her to "take off the fucking dress."

Taking a deep breath, Faye started to undo the clasp of the great cloak she wore. With a soft, audible " _thunk!"_ the cloak hit the floor. Next, she went to undo all the buttons at the back of her dress, struggling a bit with the ones that lay between her shoulder blades.

At the sound of feet padding towards her, Faye turned to look at Sandor. He flipped her back around and tore the back of the dress, letting it fall slightly as she snatched at the front so it would not fall as quickly as it would. Cool air caressed her naked skin, goosebumps spread across her body. Looking back to him, she stared into his dark eyes and saw the heat that was held within them. Breath quickening, she dropped her now ruined dress. She turned slowly and came to a stop in front of him. She now stood completely bare to him.

"Who knew you kept all that hidden."

* * *

A/N: Thank you for waiting so patiently! I have literally been writing this chapter for two months. Hopefully, the next one will come up pretty fast! Also a thank you two my friends who deal with all my craziness with this freaking chapter.


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